


The Nowhere Man

by Immerghensi



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1984 themes, Following through to the bitter end, Last Day On Earth, Reverse Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2554250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immerghensi/pseuds/Immerghensi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This song's anthem:<br/>Let's See How Far We've Come- Matchbox 20</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Nowhere Man

**Author's Note:**

> This song's anthem:  
> Let's See How Far We've Come- Matchbox 20

Act One: The Angel Maker  
Today another has left me.  
He lay in the tank so still that I barely knew he'd passed, but I knew. The classic signs of the phasing from the dream of sugar plums and fairies to the coldness that was, indeed, the Reaper's hand. There is no denial: today I have given another Another to the Men of Fire. They will take proper care of him when it comes time for the crematorium. But that is their job, not mine. My duties only consist of placing the children in their cells, not taking them out. 

When the Angel left, I ordered a Little One to be sent into the Machine in his place, a warm new body to lay on the plush mattress inside the cell for the rest of his lifetime. The Heaven Machine accepted him graciously and openly; it has no bias. It does not judge nor love. It does not feel nor beget feeling. It simply is. That is the appeal of the machine, though- the world inside Heaven is exactly what the individual has made it. There is no want nor need, for the Machine provides all. It is our greatest accomplishment and our greatest shame.  
~  
They sat at the wide table on the bottom floor, with one seat at the end set for me, like the guest of honor at a banquet.  
“What is this?” I asked.  
“Sit down, Alto.” replied Myra. “Just...sit.”  
I did as my sister asked. The stares of my siblings contrasted greatly from those of the other department chairs. They showed remorse. Sorrow. Pain. The others… they were here for some other reason. It reciprocated regret. I prepared myself for the worst, premature cremation, with the settling words of the artificial teachers who taught children inside the Machine to never fear death. It was a natural thing of course; my livelihood depended on it. I could never send so many Angels through the Heaven 4.0 program without the death of the others. Yes, there is nothing to fear in the Reaper.  
However, in pain there is. I kept this in mind as our guest, a man whom I could tell did not belong here, brought the room to attention.  
“Mr. Hazard- it has come to the attention of the Central Controllers that your work in Facility Pi Omega Gamma has been quite exemplary. You remember the crisis over the emotion distribution programming that spread worldwide in a matter of days?” I did, and I said so. “Your ingenious reprogramming of an alternate system to shut down production long enough to rewire the system set the precedent for thousands of facilities. By our Lords, we were amazed! You have turned many heads, Alto.”  
“Of course,” I said, switching positions, “but I don’t understand- we never call meetings with this many high level personnel without there being an important reason or a crisis of some sort. For what cause must we hold this congregation? I doubt you are here to praise me exclusively.”  
At the opposite head of the table, the guest shifted uncomfortably. I notice, and said,  
“You aren’t telling me something. If it’s that terrible, I believe letting one down lightly is not the best course of action. It is better to be-.”  
“Alto,” Gambit said, his hands up in a defensive pose, “leave it alone. Mr. Burke?”  
"Our researchers have used your work as a basis in.... theoretical trials involving complete machine-directed entranceinto the Heaven 4.0. We have created a prototype system wherein the maximum number of Angels can enter Heaven, but it requires one member to stay behind, to complete the circuits for the New Mother machines- the one you are currently working on. With your credentials, it was an obvious choice."

"I don't understand," I said. Sir Burke stood at his end of the long table. The seconds stretched beyond what I even thought possible.

"It had come to this, our greatest sympathy, that you must bear witness to our great civilization."

Act Two: The Man of Fire  
The main crematorium slide needed significant repairs, so that is where I spent my entire day. Some new Man of Fire had escaped my brother’s watchful eye long enough to tamper with the controls leading directly to the Heaven Machine. My engineers notified me immediately , though, when the Reaper machine collapsed in Sector 8, so there will be no lasting damage. They depend on me for direction, and for this quality I believe I was chosen to be the martyr of the Angel Makers.  
My earpiece pulsed quietly inside my head, an indication that my personal secretary, Miss Caldwell, a pretty young thing of twenty-one, had information for me.  
“Yes?” I said in a calm voice.  
“Request for you from the Rainforest Machine. Shall I tell them you’ll be up shortly?”  
“Yes, thank you.”  
The pulsing stopped. In my early years as an engineer, the Distributors were fed partially by the recycled emotions from the crematorium and partially by external suppliers who lived above ground. They would funnel supplied underground, where we all lived, to keep up Angel cell maintenance. My first project, the Rainforest Machine, provided our facility with enough renewable resources to be complete self-sufficient. I was about to leave the cellblock for the elevator when another wave of pulses vibrated through my bones.  
“Go ahead.”  
“Request for you from the Inferno. Shall I patch you through?”  
“Yes, thank you.”  
“Alto!” The joyful voice of my brother rose above the grinding gears and the shouts of men who did not wish to be splashed by lava. “Meet me and Myra up by the simulator. You know, the one on neg. 3? Come as soon as you can. Which means now.”  
His voice cut out, and I gave the new instructions to my secretary.  
“Send Miss Forte to take care of the Rainforest Machine. I shall be in the simulator if there is a major disaster.”  
~  
“When you said ‘meeting’, I certainly didn’t expect this.” Gambit had programmed the simulator to create a beach at sunset. Of course, he didn’t know what a sunset looked like; the last time he had been above ground was when he was four and I, six. Myra hadn’t been born yet. I remembered the time when our facility’s workers still gave birth after waiting nearly a year for their children to gestate. Or whatever word they used then. The concept of having children was too time consuming and too distracting. The only ones who were allowed to reproduce were lower level workers who were in perilous occupations (such as most of those in the Inferno). It was pleasureless and meaningless, so why do it.  
“..... but then I thought, ‘hey, I should probably do something nice for him since he’s been really stressed lately’ so here we are. Do you like it?” I hadn’t noticed my brother talking.  
“It’s quite lovely. Thank you.”  
“I also brought this.” He pulled out a basket of some sort, filled with unprocessed foods. How long had it taken him to do this? Had he taken that dead animal and fire-roasted it over the crematorium? I suddenly felt ill. “It’s a picnic basket! People used to use them when they went outside. What is ‘outside’? Is that like the room here?”  
“Yes!” exclaimed Myra. “Tell us about life above ground!”  
It hurt my soul that my siblings had never been given the chance to see the Earth for what it was- fantastic colors and animals and plants unlike anything the Rainforest Machine could ever make or the Machine could imagine.  
“Well...it is beautiful. During the day, the sun provides warmth and light to all the plants and animals it touches. The water courses naturally through the woods and the forests, unhindered by the walls and the pumps we have here. And there are birds that fly free overhead. It is quite a sight. The other animals that roam the lands-”  
“But we have primates here, in the Distributer quarters.”  
“These are animals native to here,” I said gently, “They walk on four legs and have features that are the product of millions of years of change. You read about this before becoming one of the Doctors Electric- Mr. Darwin’s theory of evolution? The divergence of the species has begotten magnificent traits and abilities that we do not see in the facility. They have not been programmed into the simulator. I was forbidden to do so by the Central Controller.”  
“Why? Is there dangerous knowledge out there?”  
“No, Gambit- I do not know. The purpose of the Angel Makers is to send Little Ones to Heaven, as it is the Traveller’s to liaise and question Central Control. But I do wonder if it is to keep the workers from leaving. Manufactured lives we live are nothing in comparison to what I believe they could be.”  
My sister contemplated this a moment before saying,  
“They why haven’t you left? Why are we all here?”  
I sighed once more. “You remember your lessons- the good of one for the good of all, for together we rise and together we fall.”  
She had a puzzled look upon her face, furrowing her brow into fine creases. “I do not understand… I must find an answer for myself, then?”  
“Indeed. The interpretation of this life is subject to what mind can imagine.” 

Act Three: The Doctor Electric  
On the third day after the announcement, I asked my brother first if he would stay here, with me, to keep me company when the last of the Angels leave. He placed his hand upon my shoulder and with great sign, replied,  
“I will go to Heaven, because that is where I belong. You must stay here because it is your duty, as it is mine to leave this place.” I cursed silently, trumped by his mention of our duty to our great civilization.  
“Have you not considered staying? What makes the Machine so appealing? Help me to understand; my vision is blurred by the weight of my burden.”  
Gambit smiled. “There is no pain in Heaven. There is no sadness, no want, no  
“But you understand these emotions because you have felt them. What of the next generation of Angels? They will never know what we have known, so how will they not feel something they do not know? Without rage there can be no joy. Without sadness, happiness cannot exist. So I ask you again- shall you enter Heaven?”  
The choice was clear- there would be no removing Gambit from his promised cell once my work on the Mother was complete. My work! The irony of becoming obsolete had cut into my desire to be an engineer. The sinking feeling of fear coursed through my veins, and in the pit of my stomach I felt a seed of anger begin to sprout.  
~  
“It will be lonely up here, you know.” I came to my sister the next day to ask for assistance. I did not wish to be in a world of silence.  
“Of course, brother,” she replied, “and I shall miss you dearly.”  
I took this as a signal of ambivalence. “Then stay here, with me! Heaven is full of Angels and the Earth is barren of them. I must stay, but you have a choice.”  
“There is no doubt in me; I shall go to Heaven.” Her voice was clear and confident; she had no fear.  
"What," I asked her, "does the Machine offer you that this land does not? Surely there must be some hesitation to becoming an Angel!"  
"I belong in Heaven," she replied, "as all do. Once the Distributer is complete, I will have no reason to stay. I will become unuseful. But again-my work here is done. I will continue my good deeds from within my cell until the Reaper comes for me. But how lucky are you, that you will see through the creation of a new age of Angels! It will be you that we worship for generations to come, and I will be fortunate enough to call thee brother. No... It is not my place to stay upon the face of the Earth."  
Anger seethed within me. Did no one understand the implication of becoming an Angel? It was the forfeit of emotion, the sacrifice of the ability to truly feel. Nonetheless,I accepted her reasoning; what else could I do? She is no longer the foolish young girl I watched over all those years ago, when our parents were too busy sending Angels to Heaven to take notice. It would be selfish of me to keep her here against her will. The sacrifice of one for the good of many…. That is what I have lived by and I must not abandon it now in the face of fear.  
~  
The laboratory was devoid of researchers. All those who hadn’t gone for their midday meal were ordered to leave just so I could try to come to terms with my sacrifice. It infuriated me that out of all the workers that had been candidates, I, the leader of my department, had to extract myself from them the Heaven Machine program. Maybe if I had created a better way to get as many people into the Machine, I wouldn’t have to stay back. But it is too late; I must accept my fate. I am the last to reserve the right to feel, and I should be proud. 

Act Four: The Last of Us  
Between the day before being assigned my greatest honor and the day when I returned to the Machine, the difference in the way others presented themselves around me was astonishing. Those who were envious had become pitiful, offering assistance where they would normally leave me to my duties. Others left gifts upon my doorstep, which I graciously accepted but made no use of. Miss Caldwell offered me certain favors, which of course I declined, that I never thought possible. It is as though I am the one dying, and not them.  
I locked myself away with the Mother when the rest of this facility's workers went to practice how to live and conduct themselves in a cyber universe. It would be unnecessary cruelty upon myself if I were to stay. Myra and Gambit must learn to keep a watchful eye over each other, for when I am gone our family will be reduced once more.  
Miss Caldwell called me out of my isolation on the third day, in fear that I would die of sleeplessness or starvation. That would put a damper on the Central Controller’s plans to use our facility as an example for the other facilities still working… I was beginning to dislike him even more as the date of the mass-entrance grew closer. I unbarred the gate to the Mother and was struck by a blinding light, though however hard I fought it, there would be no escape from the overstimulation. I saw many figures, but could distinguish none. The room erupted in a cheer.  
"Praise Alto!" They said, "The candle in the night, the hand of god, martyr for our great civilization! Praise for as long as we exist, for he is our Heaven Machine! Praise the Angel Maker! Praise Hazard!" and I know it was to be my legacy; my great achievement. Angels for centuries will rejoice at my name, but alas! Will I believe my sacrifice is worth the legacy? It was supposed to make the post- trauma buzz die down, or at least to help accept my fate, but it didn't. I didn't. I couldn't.  
“What is the meaning of this?!” I asked of them, my sole purpose for existence, “For what have you come together for? To honor your own deaths and my damnation as a result of it? Thou shalt not praise me, but mourn! Mourn for your own loss, for admittance to the Heaven Machine is the forfeit of personhood, all of your emotions, all of your dreams- for in the Machine you will have no want nor need, no desire, no passion. You shall not hope nor dream. You shall not die, but you shall not live. I ask you again: shall I make you Angels?”  
There was a brief silence before the room erupted into cheers. I believe I’ve lost my mind. This is not the way I expect this…. meeting to go. They were supposed to break free of their bonds tied to the machine, not cling to them. The head of our facility calmed the group down to a lingering small talk before pulling me aside.  
“Alto, I never knew you were so proficient in rhetoric! Where did this talent arise from? I must thank your teacher.”  
“Moria, they do not understand the implications of the Heaven Machine. They cannot go!"  
“Of course- but this is not your choice to choose. You cannot turn off the Heaven Machine lest the millions of lives connected to it are terminated as well. The others are dependent upon you for their safe journey to Heaven.” She took my hand in hers. “Remember: We exist for the foundation. For the greater good thou shalt sacrifice one. These Angels.... They are the greater good. Be proud and steadfast, for you are right in your emotions as the martyr for our legacy.”  
She left me at that moment, alone, to question the universe’s meaning of my selection. There will be no doubt, no remorse, for me if I am to live out my meager existence upon this land of flesh and blood.

My sister came to me in a veil of indifference, cloaking the pang of fear and sadness I could see in her eyes.  
"I wish it didn't have to be like this." She said.  
"I know," I replied, "but you must go to Heaven. It is where you belong, Doctor Electric."  
It settled her to hear the words as much as it just my own soul to say them. I ley her down to sleep for the last time and closed the pod over her.  
~  
Mty sister came to me in a veil of indifference masking her own sadness and fear.  
“I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” She said.  
“I know,” I replied, “but you belong in Heaven.” These words reassured her as I lay her down to sleep for the last time.  
~  
When the last of us left for Heaven, I set the machines to run at the appropriate pace and set the nursing robots to tend to the Angels. The halls were empty, and the rooms quiet other than the rhythmic humming of my non-living children. My children all the same, just as the Angels are my own.

Act Five: The Lonely King  
I thought myself senseless until the burdened scream reflected upon me, and I let the wave of tension flow out of me. It has been not twenty days and I already question my devotion to the Engineers. It is too late to reverse my own damnation yet too soon to admit regret. The last in the world of the conscious; the last to the right of feeling.... Feelings that those in the Machine will never have, nor will they ever know exist except for the passing mention of it from a parent or grandparent. Feelings of pain and hunger are abstract. It is a marvelous thing indeed, and for my dearest creation my own life-breath is sufficient.  
I finished the last machine, the Mother, today. She’s finally perfected, and I believe this has been the greatest accomplishment of my life. But I ask- when a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make a sound? I must bear witness to the accomplishments of my own people, but for what end? Do we expect the little green men from beyond the stars to come just as the last of us have been laid down to their eternal sleep? Surely there must be a reason I was chosen besides my proficiency in the Robotic Arts. Surely.  
I walked to the furnace, where my brother once stood guard over the Men of Fire, recycling the manufactured emotions and experiences for the funnels for my sister to use. The main furnace bubbled with the fury of one thousand reactors, the heat so strong that I had to shield my face. The vulnerability I felt when faced with this powerhouse made me feel alive again. Today was a new day, and I had reserved the right to fell instead of abandoning it for Heaven. Yes, today was a good day.  
When the robots providing the nutrients drips left the canteen, I sat and pondered for quite a while. Time does not matter now; I have the rest of my lifetime to consider what I may. The Angels will lay dormant and the machines will continue running perfectly, as they were designed to do. It will be one hundred years, one hundred thousand! Nothing will change here. A glimpse of perfection for which I am responsible but denied all the same.  
My selflessness must be repaid, and the traditions rules I used to live by do not exist anymore. I have been rendered obsolete by my own children- surely they can function unattended for some time. I passed the hall where the news of my assignment had been given, and moved past it to the elevator leading to floor 1, the only floor above ground level. I passed the Heaven Machine and the distribution center, the wavered glass obscuring my vision. I passed the living quarters where my comrades used to lay in their times of dormancy, and where my own living space was. I passed the conference rooms for the Central Control Facility’s visitations, where Mr. Huxley Burke must have passed through before relaying his ultimatum to the rest of Phi Gamma Beta. I passed my firstborn, the Rainforest Machine; its ambient sounds soothing me for my own journey. The doors slide open, the large grey block lettering reading  
1  
I reminded myself once more that the rules I had once held myself no longer applied, and that my children would survive without me. I opened the entry hallway leading to the front doors, the system scanning my body. The Golden Arches revealed the light, and so this Lonely King took his place under the summer sun.


End file.
